


The Man That I Use To Be

by ImperialTrash



Category: Overwatch (Video Game), Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Mentions of Cancer, Mentions of Violence, Mute just wants to live peacefully, Other, more to be added - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 09:16:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16092614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImperialTrash/pseuds/ImperialTrash
Summary: Mark Chandar played his role years ago, he didn’t need any more trouble in his life. He thought that the world didn’t want men like him anymore.Times have changed, and he’ll be force to adapt. He’s been offered by Overwatch to join their ranks, and he’ll be back on the field once more to save the world.





	The Man That I Use To Be

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Mentions of violence and cancer

It’s beginning to get late, Mark decided, when the pole lights in the lonely corner of his street began to flash brilliantly. He stepped away from the dark tinted windows of his room and closed the darker drapes to them. With the sound of a clap, the ambient lights flicked on and illuminated the modest house. It wasn’t anything grand, nor was it minimal. It was nice, quiet homestead in the nice, quiet countryside of England. 

 

He turned around to see that his black cat had already taken its usual seat on the couch. She licked her willowy paw, her eyes closed and the white streaks across her forehead more obvious. Mark got on the couch, petted Grace —much to her annoyance— and turned on the flat screen, already on their favorite channel. The woeful tears of a Korean Soap Opera actress immediately greeted them. In this series, the mother had discovered her husband's affair with the male chauffeur, who was an Omnic.

 

Mark Chandar never took the time of day to watch TV until Grace Nam convinced him to watch an episode of a soap opera that she liked. He’s been watching them ever since. The former SAS operator always watched them with his cat, now that everyone was gone.

 

Being a survivor should be rewarded, he thinks. After all, he was the youngest and brightest of the team. He was the only one left out of the 2015 Rainbow startup team, the only living member left in all of Rainbow’s history.

 

All the others perished some way or another. Dozens died during the missions, he remembers how Sledge died, how Thatcher saved his life, how Smoke saved everyone in Hereford one time. He remembers every last operator and their final hours, even Lion, who nearly no one liked. They all are entrenched in the depths of his mind, one way or the other.

 

When the day came and Grace died, that’s the day he decided to test out experimental cryogenics program the UK government held. Besides him, Grace was the last ones left alive. Seeing  _ her _ bald and sickly, hooked up to an IV pumping chemo, with only pain in her eyes caused by a forced smile and a lowly lie that she’ll be okay, that drew the line. Only a few minutes later she died, her hands grasping onto Mark’s clutched grip. 

 

He didn’t want to feel the pain anymore, maybe the future would be better or yet, he’d die in the cryogenic pod. Any outcome was better than continuing to live in a world where he was alone.

 

It was a just a coincidence that he missed the Omnic Crisis completely, give or take a dozen years. When he was finally released, he was at his weakest state. He was supposed to be released by 2050, but instead, at 2070, he awoke, at the very end of it all. It was only later he found out that most of the staff at the site had perished in the first few hours of the conflict, and the base wasn’t recovered until the end of the Crisis. All considered, he dodged a bullet.

 

A small bark interrupted his thoughts. Before he knew it, the Black Labrador was already on his spot on the couch, the ever-serious look on his face. “Jesus, Chul, you scared the daylights out of me.”

 

Mark reached over and ruffled Chul’s head playfully, the dog growling happily. The three continued to watch the TV for the remainder of the episode. 

 

Mark couldn’t shake the feeling of something that was him. It felt like there was someone  _ watching  _ him the corners of his eye. It bothered him greatly, he hasn’t had a visitor in years and didn’t plan to have one now. Chul sensed it too, poking his head towards the door. He snarled quietly, rising from his seating position and pointing at the door with his head low.

 

Mark had his Moni jammers places nearly everywhere, mostly to buzz away Omnic salesmen, the thing watching must be able to bypass the disruptor or was doing it through the old-fashioned way: by being a living thing. Chul jumped off the couch and pointed angrily at the door, signaling his owner that someone was there. He never barked, he was too smart for such an impulsive action that’ll give away their position.

 

Mark slowly climbed up from the couch as Grace jumped off and hid behind his back curiously. He treaded slowly over wooden floors to his umbrella stand, the handle of his Mossberg shotgun hidden behind the umbrellas. He reached and grabbed the grip and pulled it out slowly, placing his hand on the pump and switching off the safety. It was already cocked, the trigger only needed the squeeze.

 

He went up to the peephole on the door and watched the surrounding area. The only thing visible in the light was an old woman, wearing a blue hijab looking garment around her head. She stood patiently outside the door and rang the doorbell, the electronic ding reverberating throughout his home. When the doorbell went off another time, Mark replied as graciously as he could. “Fuck off my property or I’ll blow you all to hell.”

 

The old woman chuckled. She spoke with a heavy accent, but her voice seemed tired and patient. “Then you wouldn’t hear the offer I have for you, Mr. Chandar. Please, I would only like to talk.”

 

“I’m not talking to old dingbats who somehow know my name,” he pulled away and aimed his shotgun at the door. “Speaking of which: how the hell do you it.”

 

“I can tell you that and more, Mr. Chandar, but only if you let me in.”

 

His instincts told him to just shoot the shell in the barrel. But, he knew that would be idiotic. Instead, Mark instructed her. “Put your hands on your head and take two steps back, wait until I open the door before you move.”

 

She did as she was told, pacing back and putting her hands behind her head. Mark reached for the doorknob and twisted it, pulling the door quickly. His shotgun aimed dead for her chest. The woman didn’t look like she had any intent, but from his years of fighting, Mark knows that looks are deceptive. He stepped a few feet back and jerked his shotgun to the side. Chul barked angrily, while Grace meowed. “Move in slowly and sit on the couch, in the middle seat.”

 

She stepped in, the somber lights exposing her form. She dressed like an old lady, a long coat and soft colors, complete with a blue scarf. The only thing that stood out was her eyes. Ordinary, yet right one missing and the left having a tattoo right under it. Probably a Gen Z kid, knowing how popular those kind of tattoos were back in the days. Ana sat on the couch, Grace hopping into her lap instantly. She purred gently as Ana’s old bony fingers stroked her fur gently. 

 

Odd, Grace didn’t take too kindly to new people. 

 

Mark kept his shotgun steady. “Who are you?”

 

Ana looked around his house, not making a face of disapproval for a more ‘retro’ design, but rather taking in the homeliness. “You have a lovely home, Mr. Chandar. It reminds me of simpler days.”

 

“Thank you, but I take that you’re not here for the home decor,” he sat on a nearby chair, motioning his weapon. “So talk.”

 

“I’m going to be rather frank, Mr.Chandar: We need your help.” Mark raised a brow.

 

“Who’s we?”

 

“Overwatch. We need your expertise on those who create terror through the world, and how to finish them off.”

 

Mark heckled dryly. “Once you squash one roach, there’s a hundred others to replace it. You’re wasting your time here, go home.”

 

She frowned. “I thought you were an idealist, Mr. Chandar.”

 

“I was never one, not now, not ever,” he scowled. “And how the hell do you know my name? Give me an answer.”

 

“I’ll be reaching into my coat to pull out a folder, don’t pull the trigger, dear.” That little ‘ _ dear _ ’ at the end could’ve been laughable, especially in this situation. Mark was smart, Ana wouldn’t had told him that she was reaching for something if she had something to hide. Instead of a gun, Ana pulled out a folder, labeled confidential in big blocky red letters. On it, a paperclip of his face from decades ago.

 

“I’m surprised that people still use paper to keep info, rather than store it digitally.”

 

Mark eased his shotgun’s aim, reaching for the folder. He flipped it open, seeing the Team Rainbow insignia on the corner and the former reports of Mute, SAS operator and prodigy. “How’d you get this?”

 

“When Overwatch first began, we were given permission from the UN to access files previously only accessible by Tier-One authority clearance. It was to study the motives of terrorists groups in the past, seeing how they acted and what methods they used. We discovered your Team Rainbow, deactivated nearly thirty years before we started Overwatch.”

 

“Of course, I recognize you now. You’re—“

 

“Captain Ana Amari, formerly Second-In-Command of Overwatch. The organization that was also deactivated nearly twenty years ago.” He crossed his arms. “And yet, I see your team on the news, doing the world good.”

 

“With all the technology nowadays, it’s hard to remain anonymous,” she gave a warm, yet small smile. “We searched through the Rainbow Six files again, hoping we’d find someone who was still around and available.”

 

“Must’ve found out the hard way, hm.” Mark questioned. “Visiting all the graves and families instead?”

 

“It was, we knew the older members wouldn’t be alive, but we didn’t expect all the younger ones to be gone,” Ana says. “Even Mr. Chavez wasn’t around anymore.”

 

“Yeah, I’m the lucky one aren’t I? Being the last left alive like a Roanoke colonist, force to live in the country where robots hopefully don’t kill me.” He scoffed. “What makes you think that I’d join Overwatch, especially now that you’re all illegal?”

 

She stayed silent. “Please, Mr. Chandar, I know how it is to have your family broken apart. It may seem like there’s nothing left to do, but there’s always a last job you can do before you go. I know that you aren’t what you use to be, but you’re still the best soldier to have ever lived. Consider my offer, please.”

 

Mark sighed, putting away the shotgun. There’s no way a member of Overwatch was going to kill an old vet like him. They’re the epitome of poster boys. He sighed, rubbing his brow in thought. Mark hadn't even noticed that Chul and Grace already took a liking to Ana, sitting comfortably near her. She laughed as Chul started to play with Grace over a space on Ana’s lap. “Seems like your pets are eager to go.”

 

“They don’t like being cooped up, at least Grace anyways,” he said, walking up to a drawer. He opened it, looking around for the patch. He felt the soft and sturdy fabric, feeling the logo of Team Rainbow on his fingers. Maybe he could give it another go, die like a hero. “What else does Overwatch offer me besides more shooting some unlucky bastard that chose the wrong side?”

 

“A family, perhaps? Much like your Rainbow, we have people from all over the world, new experiences to make all the while travelling and trying new things.”

 

“You sound like an Army recruiter.”

 

“The recruiter wasn’t completely wrong, was he?”

 

“I need some time to think about it, but I’d appreciate that offer. Is there any way I can contact—“ he turned around only to see that Ana had disappeared. Left on the table was a small holocard with some of her contact information. The pets were as shocked as he was, seeing how she disappeared.

 

He picked up the card, reading the emboldened print.

 

_ “When you’re ready, give us a call” _

 

Mark slid it into his pocket, saving it for later. When he’s made his decision, he’ll give Overwatch a hand.

**Author's Note:**

> I previously had the story uploaded, albeit written differently and had a quicker decision made. I was unhappy with how it turned out, so I deleted it and redid it, then it sat in the dust for months until I started writing it again. Not totally liking the ending but eh, it’ll work for now.
> 
> I’ve always been a fan of Overwatch and Siege for some years now. While I’ve been heavily into siege, I stopped playing Overwatch for a while bc of how toxic the community is, but now I’ve been playing it again and feeling more inspired to write a crossover. I’ll be honest with you though, I won’t finish it soon. I ship out for boot camp in a few weeks, but I figured I can get started on it. tell me what you guys thought in the comments


End file.
